Adaptation
by Mastadon-King
Summary: "The proof of evolution lies in those adaptations that arise from improbable foundations."  Stephen Jay Gould.  For Michael Vikenti, such a saying has never held such significance to him as it did now. After all, to adapt to the Yautja way is to survive.
1. Please Read This Section First

A/N

PLEASE READ THIS FIRST

Simply to clarify since I failed to make mention of this before (I am uploading this on August 17 of 2011), I do not own Alien(s), AVP, Predator(s), or anything relating to them. They belong to their respective creators. I only own the characters being used in this story as well as the settings and pretty much all original ideas.

Some of the material I will be getting from the most recent AVP game, which I believe came out in 2010. I will also be using some material from AVP: Exctinction. Materials and ideas being used will revolve around weapons, classes (this will be primarily for the Xenomorphs), and other such things.

If you have any ideas you would like to make please leave them in the reviews section. This will be until I set everything else up for my profile, including communication.

If you are wondering, yes there will be Yautja and Human romance. To help keep it interesting, you will simply have to be patient and read to find out the pairing. As many authors of this site ask, please read and review. If for some reason you don't enjoy this, then please, go and find something more to your liking.

I will do my best to focus on this story and update it as often as possible.

So please sit back, take a load off your feet, and enjoy. Thank you for your time.

A/N


	2. Disaster

I

Bella Vista, a small research colony on the oxygen rich planet, FP-013. FP standing for Forest Planet, while the number indicated which one it was (in this case the thirteenth). The primary goal of the colony is study the Xenomorphs for Weyland-Yutani's Weapons R&D Department. The goal, however, was not to make the Xenos into bio-weapons. It was to develop better ways to fight them seeing as how conventional methods did not have the same over all effect as it would have on a human threat.

A room able to house one or two people was dark. Its only occupant was sleeping in a standard Weyland-Yutani bed fit for two. He slept soundly until the alarm clock to the left of his bed awoke him from his slumber. 5:00 A.M., Earth standard time.

The man in bed gently tapped the off button to the slightly annoying device. Removing the sheets covering him, he got up and began his morning routine. Brush teeth, fix bedding, iron uniform, quick warm up with fifty push ups, jumping jacks, and pull ups, take a shower, dress for the day. After the work out, followed by a quick shower, he drew his combat knife. Now standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he began to remove his facial hair. A bit of shaving cream and some careful strokes of his blade completed the task with ease.

With his grooming done, he took a moment to inspect his handiwork. His reflection copied every action he made. His hair was black, his eyes a light hazel, and muscle mass equal to that of a body builder. Being 6 ft., 3 in., and weighting at 260 lbs, all of it pure muscle, he was not someone to trifle with. What's more, he had excellent training in hand-to-hand combat. His skin held a few scars, each telling a different and fairly gruesome part of his past. One such scar went across his right cheek in a horizontal motion, a reminder of how a piece of schrapnel from an exploding truck nearly killed him. _What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger_, he thought to himself. Now satisfied with his work he went back to the main room and got into his uniform.

As head of security, he made it a requirement that all security personnel wear their tactical armor and padding in addition to having melee and ranged weapons at the ready. Checking himself in the full length mirror so that none could say he didn't practice what he preached, he was content with his current appearance. Sheen guards were in place, shoulder pads properly aligned, knee and elbow guards were all properly positioned, his fore-arms also protected, Kevlar-knuckled gloves barely squeaked in protest to each of his hands' movements. A modified VP78 Pistol was holstered at his side, already loaded. This pistol was different from its plain counterparts for one reason. This pistol, with an engraving on the side reading "Heart Breaker", had a bayonet attached to it. It was more of a dagger in truth but the fact remained that it served as a bayonet. What's more is that the dagger could be removed so the pistol could work individually. The clamp used to hold the dagger could also fire it as a last resort. The man had a utility belt with a number of small tools and accessories for weapons he may find, and several daggers and combat knives in addition to several mags for said Heartbreaker.

The man turned and walked out of his quarters, the door closing behind him. Going down a corridor, he passed by some of the other security personnel as they were finishing the last hour of their shift. They all stepped aside an stood at attention. Some saluted while others simply stood by. All the same, he was glad that they took his requirements seriously. He quickly gave them a once over. They all had combat knives strapped to their boots and M41A/2 Pulse Rifles slung on their backs. They resumed whatever task they were tending to after the man walked past them. Coming up to a corridor intersection, he took a right. A minute or two later, he walked into the Security Command Center (S.C.C. for short). He heard people talking to each other about enforcing protocol, changing shifts to better suite their needs, or making plans for their free time. The man walked to a terminal with a P.A. system wired through out the colony. Taking a flyer from the another man sitting to his left in front of the P.A. system, he gave it a once over. The P.A. operator gave him the thumbs up to speak into the P.A. "Good Morning, Bella Vista. Today is Friday the 14th of December, 2432. It is currently 5:15 A.M., Earth standard time. Today's breakfast include scrambled eggs, your choice of sausage or bacon, an assortment of toasts and beverages, and some crepes for desert. Since today is Friday, Saturday and Sunday will be saved for free time. Security personnel are still required to fulfill their shifts and remain alert. We all know the danger this line of work involves. We will be receiving a new shipment of supplies and 'patients' this afternoon, so until the guests are properly secured, all security forces are to be on high alert and fully armed and equipped by 11:40 A.M. On an unrelated matter, lunch will be moved to 1:30 P.M. Today is a hearty meal of Angel's Hair noodles, meat sauce, and a combo of three meats(Bratwurst, Roasted Beef, and Grilled Chicken), Garlic Bread, and your choice of drinks. Tonight's dinner is at 7:30 P.M. with Pan Fried Pepper-Lime Chicken, a bed of white rice, avocado dip, and a number of freshly grilled vegetables. Shift change at 6:00 A.M., 40 minutes people. Get ready and have a good day." With that said the P.A. operator shut down the system.

"So, Sir, sleep well?" the P.A. operator asked. "Can't complain, really. And Jax, didn't I tell you to call me by my name when we aren't on duty yet?" responded the man, with his American accent. "Sorry, sir. I was just being respectful to my C.O." "It's fine. Just refer to me by rank when we're on duty." "Very well then, Michael." The P.A. operator stood up. At 6 feet tall and a slightly lighter build, he looked like he could hold his own in a fist fight. The black man ran a hand through his braided hair. The hair only went down to the back of his neck, but still had that Jamaican look just his voice had the accent. "So what should we expect from our newest patients, sir?" he asked with slight curiosity. "The same thing we should expect of all our patients, Jax. They'll wait for a chance to break loose, free their kin, and wreak havoc. Of course, we won't give them that chance. But be ready, Jax. Those ugly fuckers can be unpredictable." Jax merely nodded in agreement. He had heard stories of their guests. "I know what you mean, Michael. The Xenomorph is always a major threat to never be taken lightly. I once read a report of a Colonial Marine vessel responding to a call for help from a colony named Freya's Prospect. Long story short, the Xenos got loose and killed everybody. Hell, even the marines sent to answer the distress call were slaughtered. No one knows what happened after." "All the more reason to be careful, Jax. All the more reason to be careful." "By the way, if you don't mind me asking, what are the Xenos we get this time?" "We get royalty and few runts this time. We're looking at maybe thirty drones, ten or so warriors, and a queen plus five praetorians." Jax turned to Michael with a face that showed he was both surprised and concerned. "To make it worse, the ten of warriors and twenty drones we have here are from this queen too."

Once this bit of news was mentioned, a few of the people around them stopped and looked in their direction. This was definitely cause for worry. An isolated Xeno could cause a lot of damage in a short period of time if it were to get loose. A group of isolated Xenos would easily triple that as they would be willing to sacrifice themselves for their kin's well being and wreak vengance on their captors. The amount of damage to be expected should they get loose only multiplies with the increase in the number of Xenos. But when a queen is thrown into the equation…well…when it comes down to control and security in relation to the Xenos, enough is never enough. And anything less will only lead to the serpent/insect like creatures escaping and unleashing hell on those unfortunate enough to be near them. If they could and the queen demanded it, her offspring would set the entire universe ablaze in her name. This was the sad, unfortunate, and simple fact of the matter.

As everyone continued to look at the Head of Security and his P.A. Operator, the amount of tension and worry within the confines of the S.C.C. grew to the point where a person could cut it with a knife. Finally, so as to calm everyone down, Michael spoke with a voice holding authority and reassurance. "Alright people, I know how nervous you all are. This is of course with good reason. We are all aware just how dangerous these bastards can be. But the lab boys and Weyland-Yutani have provided us with the best means of securing and containing the creatures possible. The holding cells are wired with interior electrical fields, they have 2 ft. worth of heavy shock absorbing glass reinforced with heavy allow exterior cages. Gas dispensers also lining the corners of each holding cell, so we can easily knock them the fuck out if they try any of their slimy Xeno B.S. Hell, the queen won't be able break out either since we'll keep her chained up and in a heavily fortified location. Plus incinerators that can melt her alive are also in the room. Her kids won't do shit against us since we're holding a flamethrower to her head. The only real issue to worry about is the transfer from the transport ship to the holding cells. Come on people, we still have a job to do. The faster we work the better prepared we are for anything the new arrivals try. Jump to."

With that said, everyone calmed down and breathed a collective sigh of both relief and caution. Relief since they knew their leader was aware of the threat in front of them and that he had done all he could to prepare them for it. But caution since they knew that the most dangerous part of their job was about to take place. Then again, it's what they're paid for.

After another minute, the two moved on. Michael and Jax spent the rest of the day making plans for their free time during the weekend and carrying out their duties after grabbing a bite to eat. Finally, the clock neared 11:40 A.M. Everyone was nervous. Research personnel and other non-combatants kept as close as possible to isolated rooms, weapons (or whatever makeshift ones were available to them at the time), or the security forces. Security displayed the same emotion in a different manner. They were arming themselves and running about checking things in every part of the colony time and time again. Michael and Jax were no exceptions.

They moved to the colony's Flight Control Tower (F.C.T.). Jax had a ZX-76 Shotgun strapped to his back, an M41A/2 Pulse Rifle in his hands, and a basic VP78 Pistol strapped to his thigh in addition to as much ammo as he could carry. Michael had the same things and was holding onto them in the same manner, but was using his modified Heart Breaker like he normally did. The ship would arrive soon and everyone was nearly prepared. The Control Tower workers were at the monitors and consoles making sure everything was all set. Six other security members were with Michael and Jax inside the F.C.T. Just in case the fifty armed men and women standing on the outdoor landing pad sitting in front of one of the hangar buildings needed some extra hands. A number of mechanics and engineers were running about so as to clear the area of anything that give the Xenos an advantage as well as themselves. Ten more of the security guards were positioned near the Defense and Power Grids near by the hangar. Should the Xenos get out, then that area had to be defended to keep all Xenos cell measures working.

"Comm. Tech, have you picked up any sign of the transport ship yet?" Michael asked with a voice that held a great amount of worry, caution, and focus. "Yes, sir. We are attempting to contact them now." the Comm. Tech responded. "Transport ship Damascus do you copy, over?" Michael kept looking through the window into the rather open and empty sky then looked over the Comm. Tech's shoulder. He repeated this several times as the Comm. Tech kept trying to hail the vessel. A rapidly growing dot off in the distant sky could be seen by all. But something wasn't right. Michael spoke to his friend, the P.A. Operator without looking away from the dot, "Jax…I got a bad feeling here. Please tell me I'm just over reacting." All the while, the two friends tightened their grips on their guns. Jax found himself being unable to look away from the growing speck like his friend in front of him. "No, sir. I don't think your over reacting. 'Cause I've got a bad feeling too."

The Comm. Tech noticed the speck was getting too big far too fast. He kept trying to contact the ship, but to no avail. "Transport Ship Damascus, you need to slow your approach! You are coming in too fast! I repeat, your approach is too fast!" the Comm. Tech shouted into his head set. "Sir! There's still no response from the Damascus!" Michael, Jax, and everyone else were both shocked and panicking on the inside. Michael shouted into his head set only one command to the security personnel who stood awe struck as the ship was now only moments away from crashing into them. "CLEAR THE FUCKING AREA **NOW**!"

The order had come too late, though. The transport crashed shacking everything and everyone around it. In Michael's eyes, it was as if time had been slowed down. He bore witness to every spark, explosion, and sound with extreme clarity and detail. Some people had caught fire and were desperately attempting to put out the flames. Broken bodies lay strewn about, the life having been tossed out of them from the explosions or the wreckage and rubble from nearby vehicles and damaged structures crushed it out of them.

The Damascus had skid across the landing area, into the open hangar and out through the back, and completely wrecked the small building that housed the Bella Vista's primary generators and gas controls. The ruined ship rested on top of what was supposed to make the Xeno's containment easy. Everything picked up speed. Everyone in the in the F.C.T. remained completely dumbstruck. People on the ground floor and near the crash site were scrambling to fight the fires, assist the wounded, secure the area, and basically get to a less destroyed location. They all froze at what sounded like thump coming from the ship. All eyes turned to the dent in the ships hull. Another thump. Then another. The dents were getting worse. Finally, the hull gave way as the Xeno Queen tore through the ship's side. The creature's off spring charged out into the open as the Queen let out a massive almost ear-splitting roar, its black and thick natural armor shining in the mid-day sun. Michael could see some security personnel open fire on the charging swarm as the workers fled to the colony's primary structures. Both of the human groups were attacked all the same. Michael knew it was no use. He knew that it was impossible to hold them back with their defense force scattered. He knew the Queen would toss them aside like rag dolls. What's more, he knew hell had arrived and had broken loose on them.


	3. Preparations

II

Three Weeks Later

The silhouette of a strange alien craft drifted lazily by one of the two moons of a planet about the same size as Earth. The ship was large in size. It could easily hold two hundred occupants, if not more. However, there were no more than a hundred. Most were hunters, while the rest kept the ship maintained and carried other tasks such as food preparation and organizing inventory. As the vessel left the cover of the moon, a pair of the same insignias could be seen on both sides of the ship. A horizontal curve had a line going in a downward motion beneath it while a small dot rested above the curve, all of their centers were lined up. It was the mark of the Kel'tak clan. Said clan was very well known and extremely well respected. Many fledgling clans amongst the Yautja had high hopes of becoming much like the Kel'tak.

The Kel'tak were revered for their numbers, various combat styles, the abundance of successful hunters, and their strict and excellent training. They were what every Yautja that had hopes of becoming a hunter and/or a warrior aspired to be.

On board the Kel'tak ship, an old hunter observed the planet that would bare witness to his clan's next hunt. A recent spike in hard meat activity had drawn their attention. Scans of the planets surface showed that their was an ooman settlement and that most of the serpent-like creatures were concentrated there. Apparently, the oomans had once again trifled with forces beyond their control and had paid the price for doing so. No doubt that the oomans were all dead by now. Still, this was a perfect opportunity to provide the unbloods a chance to prove themselves all at once.

While organizing hunting parties for the event, the door behind the old hunter opened to let in the ships navigator and one of the high ranking veterans. Both of them kneeled with their right hands to their chests in saluting respect to the Clan Elder. He turned with a Yautja smile on his face. Both of them rose with smiles as well.

The taller of the three was a female of about eight feet, a tan color with small randomly placed spots of a greenish-blackish color. Her dread locks, as well as some of her fingers and both her wrists and ankles, were decorated with gold and silver rings. Her eye brows, or the Yautja equivalent, were small and thin giving her additional female features. Her muscle mass was greater than either of her male counterparts, yet she did not lose her feminine physique. She wore some torso, shin, arm, and shoulder armor. Without the armor she looked intimidating, but with it even the most brave of Yautja males felt a growing need for caution. Her name was Tal'na.

The second one to have entered was the clan ship's Head Scholar, Ta'lik. He wore a simple tunic and loincloth. He had a very light orange skin color with no distinct stripes or spots or anything of the sort. He was about 7'6-7'8 in height, he was actually taller than most males in truth. He held no jewelry say for a pair of bronze colored bracelets, one for each wrist, which identified him as a high ranking scholar. He held a data pad to his side, ready to take down any information he deemed note worthy.

And finally, the Clan Elder in command of the ship was Fal'sho. He looked very old compared to the other on the vessel. He was in fact the oldest of them all. His skin color was a dark grey, he was riddled with scars of all shapes and sizes, and he was blind in his left eye. He wore a full set of body combat armor. He held the respect of everyone on board the ship as well as their loyalty.

"I see you were quick to answer my call. I appreciate you both doing so." said Elder Fal'sho. "As you are both aware, we will begin a hunt soon. This hunt will be a fairly large one, as it will involve all hunters. Blooded and Unblooded. We will use the traditional Kel'tak method. One veteran for every two neophytes with every spare veteran on standby. It will give us all a chance to get out of the ship and hone our skills." He stopped for a moment to allow a holographic image of the area to show itself in the center of his room. An image of the planet appeared, it then zoomed in on a land mass, then it zoomed in on the area in question. While the display carried out its tactical function, Fal'sho could tell Ta'lik had wanted to ask something. Yet he kept it to himself. He would address the issue after the briefing. A scan of the ooman colony turned hive was shown. Hard meat activity was plentiful and sufficient in indicating that this was a strong hive with worthy enemies. "Tal'na, I need you to take a group and veterans and investigate the area. Seek out the hive in question. And be observant; for some reason our scans of the hive failed to detect their egg chamber and the queen. I want to know why. Ta'lik, your expert eyes and great knowledge will be useful in observing the hard meats. Tal'na will require your expert skill to complete her mission more efficiently." Tal'na gave a quick nod in understanding her orders. And was given permission to leave and prepare, while Ta'lik had been asked to stay. He obeyed without question. The large female left the room, leaving her male counterparts to their business.

"Ta'lik, I noticed you had something on your mind while I was briefing you and your sister. Is there something troubling you?" asked the Clan Elder. Ta'lik remained in the kneeling position until he was asked to stand. He sighed thinking of how to put his question. He eventually made eye contact with his leader. "It's about the oomans, leader." And there it was. Fal'sho and everyone else on board the ship was aware of Ta'lik's fascination with the oomans. Every time they had observe the oomans from afar, he was their studying their every move, sound, appearnce, and so on. He could go on for hours about his findings on the oomans, but thankfully he spared others that fate. He, instead, provided information others wanted to know. Mostly weak spots, which ones to fight, their habits, and what made them tick. Though there was still much to learn about them, he had quite some info readily available.

"I take it you want to study what should remain of them. Am I correct?" responded the Elder. "Yes, leader. You showed us what looked to be a settlement of sorts. I was hoping to investigate the remains if it were possible. And if it were not too much to ask, I would like to search for the oomans that may have escaped into the jungles surrounding the colony." Ta'lik showed no signs of it, or at least none he took notice of, but he was holding his breath in hopes of receiving permission. The Elder seemed to ponder this while looking at the display again. The collected information could prove useful in the long run. Oomans have been observed before, but that was only for hunting related purposes. There was still much to learn about the oomans aside from weaknesses, strengths, and the like.

The Elder turned to the Head Scholar with a final decision made. "If the situation permits, you have my approval to examine the settlement. But as for the oomans themselves, I cannot promise anything. Whenever something of this sort takes place it's very rare for us to find any survivors. Still, you may proceed with caution." With that Elder noticed a hint of a smile on the Head Scholar. It reminded him of young Yautja receiving their first Kombi Sticks or a set of Wrist Blades. He barely heard Ta'lik say thanks before he ran out of the room to prepare for the task ahead.


	4. Departure

A/N: I know that Yautja have their own system of time, but I get confused by it and don't know it. So I'm just going stick with human measurments since it's easier to handle. I'd still like to apologize to everyone about the inconvinience. Sorry.

III

Tal'na had just left her private quarters. She now had her Kombi Stick, Single Wrist Blades (one blade each wrist), a pair of knives, and her medical kit. Even with just her basic gear she looked as if she was prepared for a war. Currently, she was moving toward the training room of the ship. This was the time of the day the veterans got together for a training session and battle practice. All of the Unbloods had already finished their sparring under the watch of their instructors. This was the best time to collect her scout group.

As she approached the sparring veterans on the far side of the training room, she figured that four volunteers of the gathered thirty would suffice. It was only a scout mission; not an assault. The veterans, male and female, continued their matches to the end while she simply observed. The losers were helped up by their victorious opponents as they were given constructive criticism so as to help improve themselves in the future. Despite their defeats, they only suffered minor scratches and bruises. So they could still make themselves mission ready. Eventually they all took notice of the well armed/armored female.

"Brothers and sisters, the Elder has requested that Ta'lik and I scout the area of our next hunt. I require four volunteers to prepare and make themselves ready. Those who should decide to partake in this mission must be at the drop pods in twenty minutes." With that, she turned and left. She'd let them decide who would go. They'd probably spar to decide and if they did it wouldn't surprise her since she'd probably do the same. For the time being, she would go and check on her brother to make sure he was ready.

Ta'lik was currently in his own room. Donning his armor and equipment he heard a knock at his door. "Enter." he called. Tal'na walked in already set for the task ahead. "Brother, are you almost ready?" "Almost, sister. I need only pack my data pads and Sample Kit." She nodded and waited patiently for her younger sibling. She, like every other Yautja female, was protective of her younger sibling. Most females developed a somewhat motherly affection for the blood related offspring that came after them. On past missions the duo had together, she'd made certain he stayed close to her or that he was at least within seeing distance. And she'd scold him like he were but pup if he ran off.

When he was done packing they both walked to the drop pods. "Are you certain have all that you require, brother? You aren't missing anything are you?" Despite her constant mothering, which could get irritating at times, he was glad for her concern. He was a decent fighter, but he was a Scholar by nature. While he could defend himself, take on opponents his own size, and hunt if necessary, the whole 'become the greatest hunter ever' thing just wasn't in him. And truth be told it had nearly gotten him killed on several occassions. His sister's interferance being all that shielded him from deaths cold and, more often than not, painful embrace. So he understood why she was always looking over his shoulder and checking up on him. Sometimes he just wished that she would realize he was only a few years younger than her and that he wasn't a pup anymore. But like the old saying goes: what can you do?

After a short and quite walk, they reached the drop pods. There they saw the volunteer veterans who would join them on the mission. Two males and two females. Each carrying their own individual and unique set of weapons, armor, and masks. Donning their own masks, the siblings entered the two nearest pods with the others doing the same. Each one would be deployed a in different parts of the mission related are so as to cover more ground. "Be safe, Tal'na." said Ta'lik as he got settled into his pod. "You too, Ta'lik." said his older sister. She hated leaving him in unknown locations on his own, even for a short while. "_**Paya protect us, guide us, and grant us great strength and skill. May she smile upon us this hunt."**_ thought both of the siblings. The scout groups' pods closed. They felt the ships launching mechanisms put them into the launch tubes. With a sudden and violent jerk and shake the tubes launched them towards the planet below. As they flew through the atmosphere, they looked like they were falling stars heading to the planet's surface in the twilight hour.


	5. Arrival

IV

A dark shade of red colored a black surface, leaving only the corners untouched. A loud and annoying buzzing sound could be heard. It was as bothersome as an alarm clock one failed to turn off when it woke them from their slumber. Random blurred silhouettes of people and inhuman creatures could be seen. Some of the more human figures fired weapons that gave off short sparks of yellow or long streams of orange. The sound of screeching and screaming could be heard with the alarm. Some the of the more serpent like figures, different in shape, size, behavior, and movement, attacked the human ones. As all this continued, a blurred dome shaped object appeared in the center of all the commotion. It was small at first, but continued to grow in size, detail, and clarity. It got bigger and bigger, all the small details become more and more noticeable. Then everything else faded as it hissed. It shrieked. And with its inner mouth poised to strike and its claws set to maim, it jumped at the person forced to bare witness to this nightmare again and again and again.

Michael woke up in a cold sweat with his heart racing at what felt like a speed no heart should beat at. He looked around as he jumped up with his Shotgun in hand, scanning every direction in search any threats. As he kept scanning he attached a bayonet. The blade was aligned with the central groove in between he dual barrels. It was positioned along the weapons belly so it wouldn't get in the way when it fired.

After a moment and with no threat in sight, Michael steadied his breathing and lowered his gun. Looked to the tree where he had pressed his back to and taken a light nap. "Fuck it. I need to get back to the camp site. I am freaking tired." he groaned to himself. He dreaded the walk back since he was tired, but it beat sleeping out in the open where a Xeno could get him as he rested. Checking to make sure he had his ammo, guns, blades, and the two new swords he collected from the Bella Vista(he named one Ares and the other Athena), he proccedded to make his way back to camp.

He was tired from the his foraging and long hike. But then again three weeks of this nightmare would leave any man tired as hell. About twenty minutes later he was nearing a clearing. He stood before a small creek that ran down a mountain to his right and on into the distance to his left. He took moment to take off his Kevlar Gloves and full cover helmet and rinse his hands and face. He considered taking bath but chose to continue on with his hike.

Putting his gloves and helmet back on, he saw something in his peripheral vision. A quick moving shadow of some sort. It climbed down the tree and scrambled into the bushes. As it began to hiss at him, he saw two other shadows moving amongst nearby trees. He knew better than to approach the bush. That's exactly what the shadows wanted. Instead, he simply walked away from it. In a flash of motion the shadow jumped at him. It had been greeted with a shotgun blast to the face. Its body crashed to the ground in a broken and bloodied heap. Michael simply side-stepped so as to avoid the now dead Xenomorph. Another Xeno jumped at him from the tree branches above him.

Michael rolled to the side to avoid being pinned. The Xeno hissed angrily at its intended victim. It used its tail tip to strike at Michael. Using the bayonet on his shotgun, he blocked the strike and dove close to the creature. The Xeno was surpised by the human's bravery, leaving open to attack. And attack he did. With a quick swing of his blade, Michael cut the creature's tail down to its pelvis. It screamed in pain, but was silenced as the human used fast reflexes to bring the blade into the back of the Xeno's neck and released the blade from its clamp. The downward stab severed the spinal column and tore a hole in its throat. It scrambled on the floor before the human in an attempt to stop the bleeding with its hands. It was to no avail as the acidic blood ate at the bayonet letting more blood flow freely. Slowly, but surely, it died.

The human watched in satisfaction as the abomination laid dead at his feet. A twig snapped behind him. With great speed, he pulled out Heartbreaker and fired three shots at his would-be attackers head. The three shots found there mark. The last Xeno was left in a lifeless state while preparing to pounce. Were he to look at it from any other point of view, he would have thought the drone was about to leap in the direction of the creek.

He took another second to admire his handiwork and decided he should collect some more souvenirs. Taking out one of his acid proof (and Spartan looking) swords, he began to cut the tail tips from the serpent like creatures and set them off to the side so they could bleed dry. He attached another bayonet to his shotgun and loaded some extra rounds and shells into his weapons to replace the ones he used. When the tail tips were done bleeding out, he used Ares to leave his mark on the dead serpents. A large "V" in the with a small capitol "M" in the center. He sheathed Ares and collected his prizes.

Just as he was about to move on, Michael heard some strange booming noise. He looked above to see some kind of object falling the from the sky. Then a few others appeared. Said objects looked like black spots against the twilight sky, conflicting with the mixing voilet and orange and red colors. They went in different directions, but he could not keep track of them because of their speed of decent.

He chose not to take any longer in getting back to his camp site. He kept Heartbreaker out just in case. He kept thinking of the falling spots. Those didn't look like anything he'd ever seen before. Were they just space debris going planet-side or were people in them. And if there were people inside of those things, were they hostile or friendly. He shrugged off the thoughts desiring sleep and rest over anything else at the moment. Perhaps he'd probably go looking for those things in the morning if he was up for it. Right now, exhaustion was the primary issue he wanted to resolve.


End file.
